My First Wedding
by Dracones
Summary: A songfic, my second. Song is My First Wedding by the Wombats. Based off a fanfic on Inheritance Forums where there is an unwilling Nasuada and Eragon romance-unwilling from his side-but this works as an independant story.


**Songfic of My First Wedding, by the Wombats. Set after Brisingr. By Dracones. Hope you like it!**

Eragon stood on a hill, forcing himself to smile, though his heart was heavy and full of regret. If there was one thing he didn't want to get involved in, it was politics, well, that or loveless relationships. And unfortunately he was about to be forcefully shoved into both at the same time.

Nasuada was heading towards him, a smile on her face. He tried to smile back, to create a good impression on the thousands of Varden that stood watching them, but could not bring himself to do so. He was weighed down by fear for the future, fear for what he would have to do. His oath to Nasuada had given him no option but to leave the Varden, spelling certain death for all of them, lead the Varden and remove her from her position, which he refused to do, or do the thing that both she and his dragon had persuaded him to do.

Marry Nasuada.

She was a good friend, but he didn't love her. Whilst trying to smile at her arrival still, he snuck a glance at Arya, a real, yet sad and grieving, smile appearing on his face as he did so. He loved the elven ambassador and princess, not the Varden leader. She blinked in understanding, making his heart wince, its first real movement that day. Even_ Nasuada_ had other cares than him! She had told him the previous day that she had begun to develop feelings for Murtagh during his imprisonment, though admittedly she had said she'd changed her mind.

Then, it happened, almost faster than he could comprehend. Her arrival. The vows which he heard come out of his mouth, against both his will and his heart. The tying of the knot. Being forced to kiss her. The cheers of the crowd. Walking over to receive gifts. As soon as possible, he escaped as far as he could, on the pretence of finding more food or drink. He didn't care which, so he just said both. It would get him more time away from her, as being near her really wasn't what he wanted just now.

_This is my first wedding and I hope it is my last_

_Things would be fantastic if me and the bride didn't have other pasts_

_So I stand by the buffet and submerse myself in brie_

_I'm tactically positioned, yeah because the bar is near and the champagne's for free._

He felt terrible. Like he had done something, impossibly, horribly, wrong in every way possible. Which, of course, he had.

_This is my first wedding and I hope it passes quick,_

_If I've got no feelings for her then why is my stomach feeling so sick?_

He glanced over at a rather large dance floor that had been set up, musicians playing on a stage. There, he caught sight of Arya, sadness invading his soul once more as he saw that she was dancing with one of the elves set to guard him, Wyrden. Though she was dancing perfectly, like an angel, Eragon could easily tell that she was sad in some way, her emerald eyes seeming a little dim, the smiles that she wore never reaching them, and even the smiles falling occasionally, sadness on her face. He knew her too well, both for himself and the both of them.

_As they dance to their soppy song I pray it isn't love_

_Because she's my heartless ***** that I just can't seem to get enough of_

He tried to convince himself that he shouldn't feel like that towards Arya, that maybe Nasuada would be able to help him get over his feelings for her, as Saphira had said. He told himself that she wasn't especially smart, special, or beautiful. He told himself that his heart didn't beat faster whenever he saw her because of his feelings, that he didn't care about her enough to die for her, that he didn't love her beautiful laugh, her exquisite smile, and her enchanting personality. Maybe if he told himself that enough times, it would come true.

_She's not that beautiful, she's not that beautiful!_

_She'll steal your mind first then your heart_

_She's not that beautiful, she's not that beautiful!_

_Blame it on an evil twist of fate, that she created from the start_

Fate, yes, that was it. Angela's prophecy. It didn't fit Nasuada. Only Arya was beautiful beyond compare to him. He decided that he should leave fully as soon as possible, and went to walk over to Arya, in order to say farewell. He didn't care how rude it was to leave his own wedding early. He wanted to get away.

_Just one more single drink then it's off to bed for me_

_My head is spinning round and my legs are break-dancing (HE'S P***ED!)_

_I only meant to say farewell but I spilt more than my drink_

_I can't remember exactly what I said but I remember being chased up the street!_

Eragon, head sore, headed back to his tent, past where Saphira was drinking all the barrels she could find. When he arrived, he once again tried to persuade himself that he didn't care for Arya, that he shouldn't, but she wouldn't get out of his head, nor did he really want her to.

_She's not that beautiful, she's not that beautiful!_

_She'll steal your mind first then your heart_

_She's not that beautiful, she's not that beautiful!_

_Blame it on an evil twist of fate, that she created from the start _

_She's not that beautiful, she's not that beautiful!_

He would never be able to do it. He would never be able to persuade himself. She was his love, his one and only love but for Saphira, and he would never stop loving her. His love would outlast empires, and he knew it, not because of any sort of prophecy, but because he knew, deep in his heart, that he would never stop loving, and indeed would never want to stop loving, Arya Shadeslayer and no one else.

**Based partially on a fanfic I read on Inheritance Forums, in which there is an unwilling Eragon-Nasuada romance, unwilling at least on his part. Showing what I think he should be thinking then. Song belongs to the Wombats. **


End file.
